


Years Go By

by NicheTales



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Blind!Matsukawa, Coming Back Together, Drifting Apart, M/M, Matsukawa has a poodle, vague mentions of injury and fire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:29:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25792897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NicheTales/pseuds/NicheTales
Summary: It’s been years.Years,but Iwaizumi would recognize that mop of messy black hair, that deep laugh anywhere, and when he sees him, he almost screams, yells where have you been,  because for no reason at all, it’s been nearly a decade. He bites his lip to keep from exclaiming anything, waiting for Matsukawa to hang up the phone.“Mattsun!”“Iwaizumi?” Matsukawa grips a leash, at the end a black poodle that seems to be his very mirror image, and Iwaizumi spots the bright vest.Service Dog.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Matsukawa Issei
Comments: 3
Kudos: 36





	Years Go By

It’s been years. _Years_ , but Iwaizumi would recognize that mop of messy black hair, that deep laugh anywhere, and when he sees him, he almost screams, yells _where have you been,_ because for no reason at all, it’s been nearly a decade. He bites his lip to keep from exclaiming anything, waiting for Matsukawa to hang up the phone. 

“Mattsun!” 

“Iwaizumi?” Matsukawa grips a leash, at the end a black poodle that seems to be his very mirror image, and Iwaizumi spots the bright vest. 

_Service Dog._

“Where have you been?” 

“Not even a hello? Just straight into the questions? Somehow, I’m not surprised.” Matsukawa laughs, and when Iwaizumi looks into his eyes, he thinks he knows what the service dog is for. He doesn’t have to say. “Almost,” Matsukawa clarifies, answering a question he’s had to say so many times before, “I’m almost blind. I can still see a little. Not that your voice has changed at all, Iwaizumi.” 

“I-” 

“You don’t need to ask. I have to go, but we can get coffee. You’ll have to call me, I can’t text.” 

_No shit,_ Iwaizumi thinks, shock leaving his throat thick. Suddenly the lack of replies the last few years makes sense. 

A choked sound is all he can muster before Matsukawa bids him goodbye, disappearing into the busy crowd led by the clack of paws on pavement. 

They meet up only a few days later, sipping on hot tea in the quiet of a cafe that Iwaizumi never would have entered had not a nearly blind friend assured him that the taste made up for whatever poor decor he couldn’t quite see. 

"You do what?" Iwaizumi nearly drops his cup on the countertop. Matsukawa chuckles, a familiar sound that reminds Iwaizumi how long it’s been since he last saw him. 

"I'm a dance instructor." 

"Dance...? Really?" 

"I specialize in swing."

Iwaizumi gently puts the cup of tea on the table, clears his throat. "That's not what I thought you would be doing." 

"What did you think I would be doing?"

"I had no idea." 

"Yeah, well, neither did I. Sometimes I think I still don't. And neither does Makki." 

"You're still in touch with Makki?" 

"Did you really think I wouldn't be?" Matsukawa scratches behind the poodle’s ears absentmindedly. 

"I've been trying to get a hold of him for years." 

Mattsun never stops smiling, stretches back with a groan and a smirk that crinkles his eyes, little crow's feet betraying how long ago high school truly was. "You should have let him win that arm wrestle." 

"Are you serious?"

"Am I ever?" Matsukawa deadpans, a stare more unnerving than when he could see. Iwaizumi can’t decipher what it means, averting his eyes to take a sip and change the subject. 

“And that works with… you still dance alright?” Iwaizumi grimaces, but Mattsun seems to sense it all the same, dismissing it with a wave of his hand. He leans forward, rests his elbows on the table and sighs. 

“I can see enough, though I did trip over a loose shoe once. They keep the dance floor clear for me now.” 

Iwaizumi snorts a laugh, relieved when Matsukawa laughs with him. 

***

They meet again on Saturday, curled up with blankets on a rainy day at Matsukawa’s flat. It seems almost barren now, a stark contrast to how messy Mattsun used to be. A film plays on the TV, and Iwaizumi wonders why Matsukawa even has one. 

"...And she taught you swing dancing?" Iwaizumi asks slowly, a little warm at the smile Mattsun gives, almost predatory, a little joking, top lip a little too pronounced to be traditionally attractive.

"No, we hooked up. Her boyfriend knows swing dancing."

Iwaizumi stares at him, incredulous.

"Turns out I knew her boyfriend before I knew her, y'know, _biblically_."

*** 

Matsukawa opens the door to his flat, slides through the crack with the familiar black poodle at his heels, ever quiet and calm. Even though it’s been nearly a month since he reunited with Matsukawa again, Iwaizumi still is caught off guard, still unnerved by Matsukawa yet he carries himself with the same smooth gait he did in high school.

“Sushi fine with you, Iwaizumi?” he questions, footsteps echoing down the stairs and for half a second Iwaizumi wonders if Mattsun should _really_ be taking the stairs but it’s not his place to say. 

“Sure...Have you... talked to Oikawa... or Makki? Anyone from the team?” 

It’s a question he knows the answer to. Oikawa would have mentioned hearing from Matsukawa or Hanamaki. 

Matsukawa halts, turns to face him in the middle of the stairwell with a heavy eyebrow quirked and the curve of a wry smile that makes Iwaizumi squirm. 

“Have you told Oikawa?” 

Iwaizumi averts his gaze, continues walking down the stairs without him. A soft laugh follows, the patter of paws and rubber shoes and they never mention it again. He pretends his cheeks aren’t burning. 

It’s on their way back, hands gripped around the thin plastic of takeout bags when Iwaizumi notices in a shine of light the name on the gold tag on the dog’s collar. 

“What…” he pauses, taking a deep breath. “What is your dog’s name?” 

“...Iwa.” 

Iwaizumi stops in the middle of the stairwell. He hopes awkward conversations in the stairs of Matsukawa’s apartment don’t become a trend. He might just have to insist on visiting at his own flat instead. 

"...You're not serious." 

"Am I ever?"

There's no smile, no twinkle in grey eyes that stare him down in the light of the apartment stairwell. Iwaizumi wonders if he ever really would get an answer.

“You…” Iwaizumi swallows, unsure why this is so overwhelming. “You named your service dog after me?” Mattsun shifts, crinkles the plastic of cheap takeout in his grasp. “Why?” 

“His first name was so bad,” he jokes, a little too tightly, a little too stiff in his gestures. “Iwa is better.” 

“...Better than what, Mattsun?” 

“It doesn’t matter. It’s a good name, Iwaizumi. And he’s a good dog. It suits him.” 

Iwaizumi’s teeth worry his lips, and he never admits to having lost sleep over it. 

*** 

Iwaizumi hears him before seeing him, a storm of leisurely chatter and heavy heeled footsteps that echo in Iwaizumi’s ears. Hanamaki kicks the door open in stride, long legs with a lilt in his step and the slightest limp. 

“...Yeah, and that’s why she’s never going to-” Hanamaki freezes, almost drops the bag in his hands and stares at Iwaizumi for a moment, the chatter of someone on the other end audible through his phone. “Ah! Yes, Yeah I will head over there right now! I’m so sorry to hear that, I’ll happily go over there to help you with that very important thing you need very urgently. Right now.” 

Hanamaki spins on his heels, drops the bag to the floor of Matsukawa’s apartment. 

“Makki!” Iwaizumi barks, throwing himself over the back of the couch. “Where have you been? Why haven’t you been answering anyone? Or Mattsun? Why won’t you guys answer anymore? What _happened?”_

He catches Makki by the back of the jacket -but only just barely- fabric slipping through his grasp. Makki faces him, eyes tired, aged, sore from something Iwaizumi couldn’t see. 

“Iwaizumi,” Mattsun calls casually from the sofa, “ Just ask me. Thanks for dropping by the groceries, Makki.” 

“...No problem, Mattsun. I’ll…” Makki avoids his gaze. “I’ll text you, Iwaizumi. It was good seeing you.” 

As Makki walks away, a little faster than natural, Iwaizumi resists the urge to shout _you better._ He sits on the sofa facing Matsukawa, his hand rubbing almost furiously, pawing at his nose and jaw, a frown he tries to rub off of his lips. 

“I should have told you earlier, Iwaizumi.” Matsukawa sets his tea on the table beside them, a little too close to the edge. “Makki… Makki and I went through a lot. There was a fire. He blames himself for it, but it doesn’t matter. I only really get to see him when he stops by to bring me groceries, even though I told him I can go myself.” 

Iwaizumi’s arms unfold from his chest, unaware he had tucked them so tightly. 

“...Makki started a fire?” 

“It was an accident, but it doesn’t matter. We don’t talk about it, but… it tears him apart. He couldn’t handle it. I barely kept him from withdrawing from me, too.” Iwaizumi relaxes against the arm of the sofa, chews his lip, watches Mattsun talk. “I never meant to withdraw us from everyone else. Especially not from you.” 

“From me?”

“You were always the favorite, Iwaizumi.” 

“Not Makki?”

“Makki is family.” 

Iwaizumi ignores the flutter of his heart, wrinkles his nose in thought. 

“Who’s closer to you than family? You haven’t talked to me in months, Mattsun.” 

“That didn’t stop you from spending all your leisure time with me, did it?” Matsukawa smiles. “I think we should pick up where we left off, is all.” 

“Where we-” Iwaizumi feels the heat in his cheeks. “That was only once, years ago. I thought it didn’t matter to you.” 

“It definitely matters to me, Iwaizumi.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for a Zine years ago and apparently completely forgot to post it oops


End file.
